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© Carnegie
Herald Carnegie, Oklahoma Wednesday, See obit Agnes [Hood] Hayes Mrs. H.R. Hays Agnes Marcella Hood was born Feb. 1, 1859 near Carmi, Ill., and died in Mt. Ida, Arkansas, Dec. 15, 1928, age 69 years, 10 months and 14 days. She was married to J.F. Rogers of Carmi in 1876 and to this union five children were born, the oldest dying in infancy. The survivors are Mrs. Dessie Cain of Houston, Texas, Robert E. Rogers of Fort Cobb, Okla., Albert C. Rogers of Carnegie, Okla., and J. Frank Rogers of Fort Cobb. Mr. Rogers died, and she struggled on alone for many years. On August 4, 1891, she was united in marriage to Hiram R. Hayes of Stone Fork, Ill., and to this union two children were born, Harry S. Hayes of Blue Jacket, Okla., and Mrs. Roy Rust of Mt. Ida, Ark. Mr. Hayes preceded her in death in May of this year, at Blue Jacket. Mr. Hayes preceded her in death in May of this year, at Blue Jacket. Mrs. Hayes was converted at 13 years of age, and lived a beautiful Christian life for 57 years holding her church membership in the Timber Hill Baptist church near Blue Jacket at the time of her death. She was a deep thinker, a consistent reader, a dear friend and so thoroughly dependable, it was a pleasure to be near her. She was the inspiration of the article "The Afterglow," appearing in the Herald recently. Before going to Mt. Ida in October she visited here with her children and old-time friends, the family having located here some fifteen years ago. Funeral services were held from the Baptist church of Fort Cobb, Wednesday afternoon, conducted, conducted by Rev. Geo. Wilson of the local Baptist church and of which church two of her sons are deacons. Rev. Wilson was assisted by Rev. R.K. McGregor of Carnegie. The casket was covered with beautiful flowers, a symbol of the life she had lived. Interment was made in the Fort Cobb cemetery at her request. She also chose the funeral songs and the text, and had asked that her son-in-law of Mt. Ida conduct the funeral sermon, but since he cherished her as only a beloved son could cherish a mother, he was persuaded not to go on with the request as the strain was considered too much. On her last visit she repeated these lines to the writer, having learned them from her reader when a child in school. "A minute flies--a moment's gone, a moment flies, an hour is run. The day is fled, the nights is here--thus flies a week, a month a year. A year! alsa! how soon it is past.Who knows that this may be my last? A few short years, how soon they're fled, and we are numbered with the dead. Time like an ever flowing stream sweeps us away, our life is a dream --an empty tale, a morning flower, cut down and withered within an hour." The community extend heartfelt sympathy to the sorrowing relatives, which include the children, twenty-six grand-children and two great-grandchildren. |
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